


as time goes by

by cirque



Category: NCIS
Genre: Absolute Denial, Clues, Episode: s13e24 Family First, Fix-It, I just want to go back to season 7 is that too much to ask???, Spoilers, pop culture references, quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 09:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6899872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cirque/pseuds/cirque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has been thinking of undercover stories, safe houses with no windows, grasping at straws to find a way, any way, to make this untrue. He has been forgetting the most crucial part: this is all for Tali. It would have to be something small, something anyone else would overlook, a treasure hunt that only he has the clues for. <i><b>That which is essential is invisible to the eye.</b></i> </p><p>He turns the photograph over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as time goes by

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in shock. It's so painful??? I thought I was over this show but here we go again. 
> 
> I never thought it was possible to feel such anger for something I used to love so much. 
> 
> I can't even.
> 
> This fic is terrible and cheesy and already overdone by now, but this show has rung me dry and this is all that's left.

They're up way past a reasonable hour when it occurs to him. Tali is fussing, will not settle, and though she's beginning to pick up his English, stories in English just don't have that bedtime story magic, but they are all he has. Orli had given him an illustrated copy of The Little Prince in Hebrew, said it was Tali's favourite, but Tony's minimal Hebrew didn't extend to reading the letters. He'd made do in English instead, colorful little paperbacks with shiny paper on loan from Jimmy. Soppy stories with happy endings.

_That which is essential is invisible to the eye._

His throat constricts. Surely it wouldn't be that easy.  

He thinks of the picture in Tali's bag, Ziva's scarf, the last movie he'd seen with his mother, and faded old photographs of Ari leading to Israel like a treasure hunt. He remembers the last time he had learned of her death, the disappointment on her face when she realized he was willing to follow her even in death. The shock on her face, the way she hadn't been able to process the simple fact that he could not live without her, that he would always find her.

She always had a thing for symbolism. 

"Listen up little lady, here's a story you'll like."

But Tali kicks under the blankets and shakes her head fiercely. She wants a Hebrew story.

"Oh no," Tony shakes his head. "This is the most important story you'll ever hear. Except for when we watch It's A Wonderful Life, of course."

Tali kicks again and he sighs.

"Once upon a time there was a little girl, who grew up to be very smart indeed, but she was also very very sneaky..."

....

Tali went out like a light in the end, exhausted from the past few days in a strange cold country with strange new people. Tony creeps in silence out of his bedroom as soon as he is sure she is settled, heading for Tali's bag by the couch.

The photograph slips out of the frame easily. He turns it over and over, thinking about how this was just one of many terrible pictures he has taken over the years. Of all the pictures Ziva could have given to Tali, why this one? It's barely in focus and the pair of them aren't even central; it's almost as if it's supposed to be a photo of the Paris backdrop.

He turns it over again. That which is essential is invisible to the eye. How did that quote start?

_Here is my secret: it is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye._

There are very few things in life Tony is certain of, especially now, but Ziva's insistent habit of taking things at face value is one of them. Invisible to the eye...

He has been thinking of undercover stories, safe houses with no windows, grasping at straws to find a way, any way, to make this untrue. He has been forgetting the most crucial part: this is all for Tali. It would have to be something small, something anyone else would overlook, a treasure hunt that only he has the clues for. _What is essential is invisible to the eye._  

He turns out the lights, goes rooting through his kitchen cabinets, searching for something small and forgettable. A gift from Abby twelve Christmases ago; she had thought it was nifty and cool, she'd said it could make him feel like James Bond.

His fingers close around a thin black pen, and he grins in triumph. Hope and excitement bubble in his stomach; so far, none of this has felt real, he's been going through the motions for Tali, but it is feeling a little more real now.

He flips the pen over, pressing the small button on the end, and he blinks as the blue light shines out brighter than expected. He half expected it not to work after all these years.

He has used black lights to solve murders and track marked currency, find stolen goods, to bring justice to his country's servicemen and women and to bring peace. He wonders if this is one of those moments.

The back of the photograph lights up, glows bright blue. There's a number 142, which he recognizes as their old hotel room number, and a sentence underneath in Ziva's hasty handwriting: _Play it again, Sam._

He laughs before he can stop himself. Of course she'd get it wrong. He doubts she's ever even seen the movie, but she knows the quotes like everyone else. He's said it to her often enough over the years. _We'll always have Paris._


End file.
